All He Had To Do
by Enjy
Summary: Long term effects of the "What if Moritz went with Ilse?" scenario. Based around Moritz but the other characters will get plenty of time as well.
1. Chapter One

**_A/N: I was thinking one day that question that everyone asks themselves. What would have happened if Moritz had gone with Ilse? I'd seen some fics that are focused on the direct effect but I wanted to write about long term effects. Enjoy!_**

CHAPTER ONE

The morning sun cast golden light onto Moritz's face, blinding him a little as he sat in the grass with Ilse.

"What were you doing when I found you?" she asked gently, watching him as he silently twisted grass around his nervous fingers. He didn't respond at first, but spoke as Ilse opened her mouth to ask again.

"I failed school. My father doesn't want me."

Ilse looked at his with sympathy. "You could stay with me, you know," she said with a little too much urgency.

"I'd only get in the way," Moritz replied, pulling a clover from the earth and carefully ripping one of the leaves in half so that it had four of them. He met Ilse's gaze and saw his face in the reflection of her eyes, realizing how sad they looked now that they were shiny with tears that wouldn't fall.

"Moritz," she began but he was standing up already. There was a silent moment as Ilse got to her feet as well, and then they smiled weakly at each other.

"Th-thank you, Ilse," Moritz mumbled awkwardly. With that, he shuffled off to see Melchior. He didn't look back to see Ilse watching him walk away.

* * *

"You look tired," Melchior commented once they had closed his bedroom door. "But don't you always?" This brought a mixture of an attempted laugh and a sigh from Moritz.

"You look tired as well," Moritz said, wishing he was better at reading people.

Melchior shrugged. "I didn't get much sleep." He was picking at his fingernail now.

"Why… why were you worried about me?" Moritz asked, willing his voice to settle to one level and stop shaking. _Did father notice the gun missing?_

"That's not the reason I didn't sleep," Melchior said slowly. Though part of him wished Melchior had been worried about him, the other half was relieved that he didn't suspect anything to do with guns.

"What troubled you?"

The room grew quiet and Moritz could hear Frau Gabor working downstairs in the kitchen. Melchior sat down on his bed, mouth partially opened as if he was contemplating whether or not to say what was on his mind.

"Melchi?"

And Melchior explained it, his voice expressive and rapid as he told his friend about Wendla and the hayloft and everything else. A flicker of jealousy hit Moritz as he listened and couldn't help but… _compare._

"You can't begin to understand h--… words and books and illustrations cannot explain that," Melchior said.

"I understand."

Melchior's face betrayed his casual voice as he asked, "What?"

"I, uh… I met Ilse when I was walking last night," Moritz began quietly. "We, um. You know." He gave Melchior a look.

"Oh." There was a pause that allowed Moritz's mind to wander. This was possibly the first time in over a year that he had seen his friend at a complete loss of words. Melchior was the one who always knew what to say. What would Melchior have said at Moritz's funeral? The thought made his stomach hurt and he decided that he would be the first to end the awkward quietness.

"Uhh."

It wasn't much, but it broke the silence.

**_A/N: I'll try to update soon. Hm. I've never been good at ending chapters…_**


	2. Chapter Two

_**A/N: Thanks so much for the lovely and positive feedback, guys!**_

CHAPTER TWO

It had been perhaps five weeks now since Moritz had failed.

He discovered life without school, no matter how troublesome and frustrating his classes were, was incredibly boring. Moritz felt he had nothing to do now while Melchior was at school, and then there was nothing to do for a while longer as his friend began to visit more and more with Wendla Bergmann. He had considered reading one of Melchior's books but they were a little too intense for him at the moment.

"Moritz, would you like to help me bake some pies?" Frau Gabor asked him after watching him stare at the wall for a half an hour.

"I'm so sorry… invading your house like this. I should be on my way and you can go back to your normal life without worrying about me or needing to care for me!" Moritz said quickly, standing up from the chair and facing his friend's mother. She had a strange, slightly concerned smile on her face.

"Moritz," she laughed, "it's our pleasure to allow you to stay with us as long as you need to. "We would be more worried about you if you had nowhere to stay."

Though Frau Gabor seemed very kind about it, Mortiz had noticed the way Herr Gabor had been impatiently eying him during dinner and a part of him worried that the show of kindness was not completely true.

Nevertheless, he accepted the pie-baking opportunity.

* * *

"Melchior seems to be coming home later these days. Have you noticed as well?" Frau Gabor asked casually as she slid a pie into the oven.

Moritz, now with an apron that made him feel rather unmasculine, nodded and uttered a simple, 'mmhmm' to agree. He couldn't help but feel replaced. Melchior was _his_ best friend. _What did Wendla Bergmann have that he didn't? _The thought made a blush come to his cheeks as he remembered the essay and he quickly changed his thought process to a more decent topic.

"Thank you for helping me with the pies, Moritz," Frau Gabor said, untying her apron. Moritz slipped his over his head and nodded.

"I think I'm going to take a walk before it gets dark," he said. He wanted to see Ilse but he pushed that thought to the back of his head.

"If you see Melchior, would you tell him to come home?" Frau Gabor requested, dusting her hands off.

Moritz nodded his head.

* * *

He passed his house.

The lights were still on and he had a strong urge to peek into one of the windows just to see how his father was dealing with his son failing. He managed to pass by without doing any such thing. He didn't want to see his father. He wanted to see Ilse. Maybe he could stay with her… although her stories of Priapia were not especially safe sounding. It didn't seem like a place he could fit in so well. He had tried to meet Ilse there the week before and nothing good had come from it. He had seen Ilse passed out against a tree and an artist from across the road had yelled at him when he'd attempted to wake her up.

No, he wouldn't go there right now. Not when it was getting dark. He continued to wander about the town, seeing it as if with new eyes. He passed Georg's house and could hear the piano from inside as the windows were open just a crack. It sounded better than the last time he'd heard Georg play and he decided to lean against the side of the house for a while before he realized it was suspicious to stand outside someone's house for too long.

He walked by Hanschen and Ernst doing their homework under a large oak. A strange look was on Ernst's face as they greeted him and Moritz was a little confused about it at first.

"Moritz," Hanschen acknowledged him, "How have you been?"

"Fine, thanks," Moritz replied. It was a lie but he didn't want to give Hanschen any reason to think he was weak. "What are you working on?"

"Mathematics," Ernst said. "My formulas are all wrong and we've an exam tomorrow." Oh! Right. That explained the boy's behavior. _He thinks I hate him because if he hadn't passed, I would've._

"Interesting."

"Yes."

"Mmhmm."

The conversation quickly slowed to a halt and Moritz decided to move along. He waved at them and left them to their formulas.

Anna, Thea, and Martha were picking tulips, gossiping amongst themselves quietly. As he got closer, he realized Martha was not really there and it was in fact Wendla. Wait. If Wendla was there, who was Melchior with?

"Have you seen Melchior Gabor?" he asked. While Thea jumped at the sound and Anna smiled, laughing silently at the reaction, Wendla kept a solemn expression that contrasted greatly. It was unsettling to Moritz and he had trouble looking her in the eye.

"I might know," she said. She walked over to him and explained a location that he recognized as soon as she finished describing it- a spot near the stream that he and Melchior had discovered when they were a bit younger. He remembered it having very good climbing trees but assumed that Melchior was doing something other than that.

"I was just curious. Thank you," he said and started to walk back to the Gabor's house. He turned around to see that Wendla was still watching him even as Thea pushed a tulip behind the girl's ear.

* * *

"Melchior will be home soon," Moritz said to Frau Gabor as she set a pie on the table. They had cooled while he was walking and smelled delicious.

As he and Frau Gabor ate some of the pie, waiting for Melchior to come home, Moritz let his thoughts stray from those of his own future.

He thought about Wendla Bergmann and her haunting stare instead.

_**A/N: So, I've got tech and performances for a musical this coming week and I thought I should write a chapter before I find myself with no time to do so. Here it is! Also, just as a note… Hanschen and Ernst have not had any "vineyard incident" yet. I think that is something that Moritz's death fueled (not the love necessarily but I think they realized that people really can die that quickly, y'know? And they're like, "what if I died and this person never knew how I felt?" or maybe "what if I died and hadn't ever experienced this?" if you think Hanschen has no soul. Maybe I'm just crazy...). Thought I'd clear that up because I don't want their relationship to be confusing in future chapters. Anyways, thanks for reading! I'll update as soon as I recover from post-show-sleep-deprivation.  
**_


	3. Chapter Three

_**A/N: Sorry for the wait (the show went wonderfully but I only now am getting back on track sleeping wise) and thanks for the feedback! Here, have a new chapter!**_

CHAPTER THREE

The door creaked open and Melchior slipped inside. Moritz was sitting at the table, hand propping up his face as he tried to not fall asleep.

"Your mother went to bed already. She was worried about you not being home earlier," Moritz muttered, looking up.

"Sorry," Melchior replied simply, waking towards the stairs. Moritz jumped up and followed him.

"Why weren't you with Wendla?" he asked as they made their way into Melchior's room.

Dropping onto his mattress in exhaustion, Melchior groaned as if he didn't want to talk about that.

"What wrong?" Moritz asked, not sure yet if he really wanted to know.

Melchior exhaled slowly and closed his eyes. "Wendla Bergmann is going to have a child."

* * *

School would be out in a few minutes. Moritz was sitting in a tree, reading his essay religiously- searching for something that could explain pregnancy. He had discovered that Melchior only lightly brushed against the topic in the essay.

Their classes were over and the boys began to walk out, passing by Moritz's tree without the slightest clue someone was above them. Feeling even more like a ghost watching a play unfold than he had the other night, he listened to his friends talking and felt himself learning more about them than he had ever known before. Georg was telling Otto that he had composed a piece for "her", which Moritz could only assume was his piano teacher. He was caught off guard when Otto mentioned "her mother" which seemed a very strange thing to say about a fully grown woman. He wondered if Georg had his eye on one of the girls, but Otto and Georg had already passed by and were out of hearing range.

He saw Ernst and Hanschen walking at a slower pace and noticed for the first time how Ernst was watching the taller boy's feet and trying to match his own walking so it was in synch. It wasn't working but Ernst was so focused on the task that Moritz envied him for a moment. He wished he could be focused on one _simple _thing instead of many different yet all equally confusing things.

Melchior finally appeared and Moritz made his way down the tree trunk and over to his friend.

"Melchi, are you sure it always leads to children?" he asked quickly, his words all running together in his rush.

Melchior smiled sadly, putting an arm around Moritz's shoulder as they walked. "There is no way Wendla isn't pregnant at this point. I wish there could be… but perhaps it will all work out. Wendla and I were talking about maybe running away to England after--."

"What if Ilse is going to have a baby too?" Moritz interrupted, feeling a little guilty that he hadn't been more concerned with his friend's troubles.

"Ilse isn't pregnant," Melchior said slowly. Moritz began to ask hypothetical questions and Melchior began to look very tired of answering them. This wasn't his strong point when it came to his vast knowledge of the forbidden.

"I'm going to go see her," Moritz declared at last.

"Do whatever you wish as long as it isn't rash," Melchior told him with a sigh. "I'm going to go find Wendla."

The two went their separate ways- Melchior to find Wendla, Moritz to Priapia.

* * *

Ilse and Moritz sat by the creek, Ilse hanging her chafed feet in the cool water as Moritz sat with his knees pulled up about his chest. Conversation had been more of Ilse rambling in confusion about how it was so strange that Wendla was pregnant. She was explaining how Wendla had always seemed this and that, and how she had expected so-and-so to get pregnant before Wendla did, and wondering how so-and-so was dealing, and her words began to simply be strings of sounds and syllables. He wasn't even listening to her words anymore, but rather to her voice and how lovely it sounded.

Suddenly she had stopped talking. He knew from experience that when everything was silent it meant he had missed a question.

"What?" he asked, hoping she would repeat herself.

"Are you still staying with the Gabors?"

He nodded silently. There was a moment of hesitation, and then he could not restrain himself.

"Ilse, are you pregnant?"

There was a silence and then Ilse began to laugh. Not knowing what was so funny, Moritz just sat there, twiddling his thumbs impatiently. Ilse shook her head. "No, Moritz. I'm not."

"Are you sure?"

She stopped laughing and nodded. "I think I would know if I were pregnant," she said. Moritz wished he knew how she knew this and wished even more that Melchior did too so that he could explain it to him. He thought back to Ilse's stories about the artists and came to a horrifying realization. _Had Ilse already been pregnant?_ Discarding Melchior's advice about not doing any rash, Moritz seized Ilse's shoulders.

"You need to leave Priapia! We could move to England with Melchior and Wendla!"

"Why do I need to leave?" she asked, no amusement in her voice.

"You'll get pregnant!" he exclaimed, shaking her a little.

She laughed but it was bitter this time. "If I wanted a sermon, I would have gone to church," she mumbled, getting to her feet and walking away.

Moritz wondered if he should call for her but decided it would be useless in the end.

He wished Melchior would write him an essay about how to treat a girl… how to understand them when they make no sense.

But then, he realized, Melchior was surely just as clueless as he was.

_**A/N: Maybe one day I'll figure out how to end a chapter.**_


	4. Chapter Four

**_A/N: I am really sorry about my lack of updating. I was surprisingly busy this summer. Thank you so much, readers. I seriously would not have continued the story this far without your feedback. Anyways, here is chapter four... it's about time, huh?_**

CHAPTER FOUR

The past few days had been excruciatingly eventless. Melchior was rarely at home and, as much as he loved Frau Gabor's company, Moritz was getting lonely. He didn't dare go find Ilse after their last conversation, but he wanted to see her desperately and, as a result, he found himself going on long walks that just so happened to brush close to Priapia.

He took his regular path through town, but something drew him away from it tonight. He recognized the area but didn't know when he had been there until he saw it.

"_Well, walk me at least?" _

"_I...," Moritz began, digging his shoe into the soil. He felt the gun in his pocket and breathed deeply._

"_Moritz."_

"_Okay. Just... just give me a second. I'll be right there," he muttered to Ilse, who smiled at him. He smiled back weakly and awkwardly shuffled over to a tree. His hands were shaking as he took his father's gun from his pocket and dropped it in the grass, kicking some leaves over it._

"_Moritz?"_

_He took a last glance at the camouflaged weapon and turned around to follow Ilse._

The wind or rain must have uncovered it, because his father's gun was now sitting in front of him, partially concealed by dirt. He took a step away from it, trying think of ways to get rid of it. He could throw it in the river. There was no way he could find it if he did that. But what if someone else found it? He hesitantly picked the gun up, turning it over in his hand. His father probably had noticed its absence, but that didn't much matter anymore. He had no plans of going back to that house.

"Moritz?" a girl's voice sounded from behind him. He froze, not recognizing the speaker. The voice didn't have the raspy edge that Ilse's did, but it was low like hers. He quickly put the gun in his pocket and turned around.

"Martha?" he asked, shocked at her appearance. Her lip was split and her nose was bleeding slightly. He saw blood on her sleeve and assumed she must have been soaking it up with the fabric. Upon hearing his voice, the tall girl put her hands behind her back and sucked her lip in. She was trying to hide something. Just like he was.

"Martha, what happened?" he asked, not moving toward her. Martha Bessel had always intimidated him, probably due to her height in comparison to his. Thinking about it now, everyone managed to intimidate Moritz in one way or another. The girl in front of him looked hardly intimidating. Whatever had happened to her made her look nothing short of pathetic. She hadn't answered his question and he wondered if he should press on about it. Melchior would know what to do, he thought. His friend would be able to read the shaking girl in front of him and know exactly what to say.

He would know why the girl was suddenly hugging him tightly, sobbing into his shoulder. Her body shuddered against his and he nervously put a hand on her back and left it there for a bit. He closed his eyes and when he opened them, the sky was a little darker. Martha seemed to be out of tears, he noticed, and there were a few stars appearing in the dusky sky. Wondering to himself how long she had been keeping in those tears, Moritz began the mental debate of whether or not he should ask what happened. Martha broke the silence before he did.

"Thank you, Herr Steifel," she said, moving away from him.

"Moritz is fine. Martha...what..."

"What happened to me?"

He nodded up and down quickly.

"I got poor marks on my schoolwork... and my father...," Martha's voice trailed off but Moritz could not miss the hatred in her words as she mentioned Herr Bessel. Her words hit him again and he could share that feeling, but his was more fear. Fear of his own father. He looked at the girl in front of him, by whom he had once been so intimidated but now felt like he knew quite well, and felt himself crying as well.

"Oh my god, Martha," he whispered, itching to give her a hug. He didn't, even though it seemed right at the moment.

Martha was looking at her shoes. "Never mind it. I'll be fine," she muttered.

"Oh my _god, _Martha," Moritz said again, his voice tight in his throat. He discarded his embarrassment and moved forward, giving the tall girl a hug and crying freely.

They stood like that, holding each other protectively, trying to block each other from the world, until Martha drew away slowly. She muttered something about keeping him too late and disappeared into the trees. Questions raced through Moritz's brain. Where would she sleep? What had just happened? What kind of human was Herr Bessel? He started on his way to the Gabors, certain he would not get a minute of sleep, and continued thinking of questions. Will she be alright? What if she turns out like Ilse? Who else knows about this?

He didn't think of anything else as he waved silently to Frau Gabor. He didn't notice Melchior's absence too strongly anymore. His thoughts only moved away from Martha when he was changing out of his clothes and he found the gun in his pocket.

**_A/N: Some Martha love... she hadn't really been in the story yet so... about time! Seriously, I'm really sorry I haven't updated. I can't promise I'll be any better with school starting, but I can promise that new chapters will be posted eventually. I'll try my best to update regularly. Heh._**


	5. Chapter Five

**_A/N: I really don't want to make excuses because most of the lack of updating was because of me being lazy. Anyways, this is the next chapter. Please pardon my super long hiatus. _**

CHAPTER FIVE

Sun filtering through the dusty window woke Moritz in the morning. He pulled himself to his feet, feeling sweat on his back and remembering his dream. In it, Melchior had come to the house after Moritz had fallen asleep, finding the gun on accident. He looked to the bed and saw Melchior lying there, asleep. It looked as though he had only fallen asleep a few hours before and Moritz wondered when he had come home that night.

What was the point in wondering? He scrambled around to find his clothes before Melchior woke up, trying to be quiet. His pants had been wrapped around the gun to hide it and he shook them out to retrieve it.

Where could he put it?

He glanced to Melchior on the bed and his eyes were drawn to a small corner of the sheets that were drawn up to show the room underneath the bed. He could put it there. If he hid the gun under the bed until he had some alone time to hide it somewhere better, it was very unlikely that anyone would find it.

Moritz slid the gun against the wood floor under the bed and got fully dressed before walking downstairs to the kitchen.

Frau Gabor was at the stove, facing away from Moritz.

"Melchior," she said, apparently under the impression that she was talking to her son, "you're going to be late for school. I don't know where you've been at night but it's very worrisome and," she turned around, "Oh, I'm sorry Moritz... I thought you were..."

"Melchior is still asleep," Moritz said.

Frau Gabor nodded, dusting her hands off on her apron. "Would you please wake him up for me?"

"Yes, ma'am."

He shuffled up the steps and into Melchior's room, walking to the end of the bed. His intention to wake up Melchior was interrupted by his observation that Melchior looked very different in sleep. Vulnerable. Almost younger.

He hadn't been staring for too long before Melchior's face twisted up, mouth opening a little to take in a sudden gulp of air. Moritz moved a hand to shake him awake but stopped as Melchior began to form coherent words.

"I'm sorry," his friend groaned.

Moritz bit his lip, withdrawing his hand, and tilted his head to the side. "What?"

"This is all my fault," Melchior continued unconsciously, breathing erratically.

"What's... Melchi?" Moritz stammered, "Melchi, wake up."

"Oh god... just kill me now... I—,"

But that had been enough for Moritz to hear and he shook his friend awake. Melchior's eyes opened quickly and he wildly searched Moritz's face for something.

"You were having a nightmare," Moritz said slowly. Melchior nodded at this, sitting up. He cleared his throat and wiped the sweat from his forehead, not looking Moritz in the eye.

"Um, you didn't really... say anything. So," Moritz attempted to make him believe. Melchior didn't appear convinced, sighing, and looked to the window.

"It's light. What time is it?" he asked.

Right! The whole reason he was up here!

"Oh, yes. Your mother says you're nearly late. You need to go to school."

Melchior groaned and shot out of bed, getting dressed at lightning speed. Moritz sat on the bed, watching Melchior go through his drawers.

"Where... is it?" Melchior muttered under his breath, darting around to find something. He got to his knees and felt around under the bed, causing Moritz to stiffen up.

"Y-you don't have time, Melchi," Moritz managed to say.

Melchior looked at him but Moritz moved his attention to a suddenly very interesting shadow on the wall. Melchior got to his feet and slowly walked to the door.

"Moritz," he said, "don't do anything stupid."

With that, Melchior grabbed his bag and headed downstairs, closing the door behind him.

Moritz waited a moment, then fell backwards onto his back with a sigh.

He remembered a time when he and Melchior kept no secrets. What had happened to that? They had "grown up", he supposed, but couldn't they still be best friends as "adults"?

It wasn't looking like that was how it worked, but maybe things would get better.

Well, he needed to hide the gun.

He rolled off of the bed and reached for the gun. There was a little moment of panic as he couldn't find it. Had Melchior touched it? Had Melchior taken it with him somehow?

Wait, there it was. No need to worry.

He pushed it into his pocket, suddenly aware that his hands were shaking a little, and walked downstairs.

"I'm going to go for a walk, Frau Gabor," he mumbled, stepping out of the house before he could hear her reply.

The morning was somewhat chilly and the grass was wet from some nighttime dew. Moritz watched the toes of his boots until he heard talking up ahead. He looked up to see Wendla and Thea, Thea skipping and Wendla walking, on their way to their own classes, which started about an hour later than the boys'.

He got closer and kept quiet, hoping to catch some conversation between the girls, but found that their voices, higher and softer than boys', were difficult to pick up from his distance. He'd have to get closer.

He quickened his pace while still trying to look casual in case they saw him, and began to hear Thea's voice. He slipped behind a tree and peeked out to watch the friends.

"You seem so quiet, Wendla," the braided girl observed, still skipping.

Wendla didn't reply, or maybe her response was just too quiet. Apparently it was the latter, unless Thea had suddenly taken to talking to herself.

"That's bothersome. Do you remember when Martha had that awful stomach ache a few weeks ago? Perhaps it's the same thing."

"Maybe," Wendla said more loudly than her previous comment.

"You look so pale," Thea said with a sudden graveness. She stopped skipping, stopped moving entirely, and took Wendla's hands in hers. "Wendla?"

"You're one to talk," Wendla laughed, though it was clear that she was just joking in an attempt to lighten the mood. Moritz didn't blame her. Thea being serious was a sign that something was wrong.

Thea shook her head. "No, Wendla. I mean... unhealthy pale. You look ill." The girl gave Wendla's hands, which were indeed quite pallid like the rest of her, a quick squeeze.

"I'm... I know," Wendla said.

"You know you can tell us... you can tell me anything."

"I know," Wendla said with a sad smile, "I know, I know..."

She was suddenly sobbing, sinking to her knees with her hands over her face. It reminded him of his encounter with Martha. Were all girls so emotional? It was kind of nice, he thought, to know what someone was feeling without trying to read the most subtle things like eyebrow ticks. Being a girl would be nice.

Except for the part where girls got pregnant. That was most certainly not nice.

He snapped back to the girls, who were now hugging, both crying and sobbing things to each other.

"You're my best friend, Wendla," Thea wailed, "Don't hide things from me!"

"I'm sorry," was Wendla's reply. Moritz had a flashback to Melchior's nightmare. He had assumed that Melchior was apologizing to Wendla, but could it have been meant for Moritz? That was probably being optimistic but he wanted to believe it.

"Don't be sorry," Thea said. "I just... it feels like we... I don't know!"

"Shh, Thea," Wendla murmured, rubbing circles on her friend's back. "Let's stop crying now. We don't want to have puffy eyes, right?"

Thea nodded, face still screwed up to hold in tears.

"Okay. Let's go," Wendla said, smiling comfortingly at the smaller girl. It was probably a somewhat regular thing for Thea to take one of Wendla's issues and make it be about her. Maybe that was for the best, though. Maybe it stopped Wendla from moping in her own self pity. Moritz knew that experiencing someone else's suffering, like Martha's, was an easy way to get over your own problem.

He looked back at the friends, standing now but still hugging tightly, and frowned. Why couldn't he and Melchior have heartfelt conversations? It wasn't fair.

"Everything will be fine, Thea," Wendla said, pressing a kiss to the crown of the other girl's head. They walked away, holding hands, neither girl skipping. They left Moritz to himself, silent.

He envied the girls, he realized.

Why couldn't someone tell him that everything would be fine?

**_A/N: Aww, Thea-Wendla friendship is my favorite. Thea doesn't get enough credit in fanfics, I've noticed. Anyways, I will make it my New Year's resolution to update this fic once a month. How 'bout that? Thank you for reading and bearing with me for this long. I'm awful about updating, I know._**


	6. Chapter Six

_**A/N: Oh my god, guys. I feel kind of awful about how I didn't update for a whole year. That whole 'chapter per month' idea didn't work out very well and my summer turned out to be—oh, who am I kidding. I'm just horrible at this whole 'regularly updating' shindig. I'm sorry! Please don't stone me.**_

CHAPTER SIX

With Thea and Wendla's voices still in his ears, Moritz continued walking. He realized as he passed his old house that he could very well just sneak in and put the gun back, but then he began to think about how it would appear to have a missing gun show up out of the blue, covered in mud and grass. After a long enough while, he decided that the river seemed like a good place to dispose of the gun. It would get swept away and he'd lose track of it.

He was drawn out of his thoughts when he saw Martha down the road. When they passed each other, they exchanged a quiet greeting and Moritz tried to not look at the taller girl's split lip. He wasn't sure where his confidence had gone, but he knew that he wouldn't be able to hug the girl like he had the other day.

Martha, Wendla, Thea... they all seemed to be so open about things with each other. They seemed so much easier to get along with than boys. Moritz thought back to the essay Melchior had written him, letting himself really think about how the other boy had portrayed girls. While Melchior certainly knew that there was more to them than just legs and breasts, he talked about them as if they had to be treated much differently than boys. Moritz was beginning to think that maybe he knew more about girls than Melchior, a concept that was nipped in the bud when he remembered how he had awkwardly confronted Ilse.

Still, he had gotten a hug from Martha Bessel while she cried, hadn't he? That was something.

He could hear the quiet rush of the river now. He walked around a few more trees and looked down to see the water drifting past. The current was relatively slow and calm, and Moritz almost wanted to just sit down and listen to it instead of throw a gun into it. With impressively still hands, he pulled the little gun from his pocket and dangled it over the water as if he was threatening it. Pressing his lips together into a flat line and closing his eyes, he let go and listened to the plop of it hitting the water.

When he reopened his eyes, he was displeased to find that he could still see the gun. It had only drifted to the bottom of the river and was glinting up at him in the sunlight. He had been hoping to feel a wonderful freedom when he got rid of the gun, but he felt relatively the same.

Shoving his hands as deep as he could into his pockets, Moritz headed back to town. He had to get his mind to a better place, he thought, and maybe he would be able to catch Melchior early if he hung around the school. Assuming Melchior would even want to see him, that was. It was just as likely that his friend would disappear in a mysterious way and not show up until a few hours before daylight.

His afternoon was soured when he spotted his father from a distance. Despite how he had been treated, Moritz still felt like he should apologize to the man. Maybe his father had just needed time to sort out his feelings. Maybe he would understand now. It was a fifty-fifty chance, so Moritz decided to approach him.

"Father," he said with his best mask of confidence.

"What are you doing here?" was the quick response.

"I wanted to talk to you, father, about school. And about wh—," Moritz continued before being interrupted.

"There's nothing to say. Now leave before someone sees me talking to a vagrant."

Moritz wanted to say something to defend himself but he stayed mum. He couldn't talk back to his father, especially not right now. Instead, he nodded rapidly, tucking his chin down to hide his face the best he could, and walked over to the schoolhouse.

_A vagrant?_ No- he wasn't a vagrant. Was he? Not at the moment, no, but in the future? It was too easy to imagine himself as a beggar. He was on his way to that life. His education had ended. There weren't many jobs in town to take. The adults had put such importance on school and education that he had never thought about what he would do when he was out of it.

The more he thought about it, the more panicked he became. He ran a hand through his hair and crouched under a tree, drawing his knees to his chin and lacing his fingers together. What _would_ he do? If it was easier, he would get back into school. But as it was, he had been expelled for his marks. Usually, he would have considered having Melchior help him, but now that seemed like a foreign idea.

He needed to get back into school. He needed to find a tutor.

His next pick, after Melchior, was Hanschen. The boy intimidated him but he was brighter than the other boys. In fact, Moritz was fairly sure that the reason Ernst hadn't failed in his place was because Hanschen tutored him.

He sat there, under the tree, in that position for another hour or so. After what seemed like forever, Georg and Otto rushed out of the school, loosening their ties as they chuckled to each other. Hanschen and Ernst walked out next. This was Moritz's chance to ask about tutoring, but he wanted to wait for Melchior to come out as well. Keeping an eye on Hanschen and Ernst while still watching for Melchior, Moritz got to his feet and started towards the two boys.

"Hanschen," Moritz started, somewhat out of breath from the short run he'd done to catch up with them.

"Yes, Moritz?" the blond asked, stopping in his tracks and facing him.

"I was wondering if you would be able to tutor me. I want to get back into school."

There was a confusing trade of expressions between Hanschen and Ernst, and then Hanschen pulled Moritz to the side and lowered his voice.

"I would, Moritz, but your absence from the class means that Ernst is in the class. Ernst is my friend. You are my acquaintance."

"Please, Hanschen! I could pay you," Moritz begged. Maybe he was closer to being a vagrant than he had thought.

Hanschen shook his head after a brief hesitation. "You're living with the Gabors and you have no job. I doubt you have enough money to pay my constantly, and even if you could, you should use that money for other things to benefit yourself. I hate to think that you steal food from the Gabors every day."

"I…"

"No," the other boy said firmly. There was a look in his eyes that solidified the word, and he turned back to Ernst. "Alright, let's be on our way."

Feeling like a shadow had fallen over him, Moritz took a deep breath and watched the two boys turn into specks on the horizon. He would never get a tutor. He would never get back into school. He would become a vagrant and be a burden on Frau Gabor for the rest of his life.

Just then, he heard a tinkling laugh that was unmistakably Thea's and a few sighs that probably belonged to Wendla and Anna. The shadow over him lifted and Moritz felt his mouth fall open as he had an epiphany.

He would ask the girls to tutor him.

_**A/N: Again, I'm so sorry about the writing gap. I can't promise regular updates, but I do assure you that I have no plans of abandoning this story. I quite like it. Perhaps I ought to give a sort of special thanks to theatergirl95, who recently reviewed my story and reminded me that people were still reading. Of course, plenty of other lovelies like her reviewed and made me want to write, but her review came right as I was finishing up my final exams and entering winter break. Having said that, this author's note is really too long and I'm going to end it now. Thank you so much for reading and bearing with me.**_


	7. Chapter Seven

_**A/N: I've been wanting to write this chapter since I wrote the last one, but I haven't been able to find the time to do it until now. ******__I really can't thank you guys enough. If it weren't for your reviews and kind words, I don't think I'd have gotten this far. So thank you so much. _Enjoy!

CHAPTER SEVEN

Approaching the girls had been tough. Asking them to tutor him had been even more difficult. While Anna and Wendla seemed open to the idea, Martha seemed uneasy and Thea outright said that she was against it.

Luckily for Moritz, the final decision was in his favor. The five of them decided to meet up near the vineyard after church the next day. The whole concept was so exciting to Moritz that he had even more trouble falling asleep than usual. Melchior had gotten home at a reasonable hour, so Moritz couldn't even pretend that he was waiting up for his friend to get home.

Church rolled around and Frau Gabor didn't even bother asking Melchior if he was planning on going. Regardless, the two boys got up early and dressed themselves, both seemingly getting ready to go somewhere somewhat important. When Moritz asked, Melchior explained that he was going to go talk to a man, presumably about getting a boat to England or something. Melchior didn't question Moritz's own appearance, which was simultaneously upsetting and a relief.

He made his way to the vineyard as the bells rang out that church services had ended and waited for the girls. After a few minutes, Anna and Thea wandered into view.

"Wendla's not feeling well and Martha wasn't able to convince her family to let her come here," Anna explained when they had sat down by him. "So you just have the two of us."

"I was wondering if we could study Latin first," Moritz mumbled, pulling out one of Melchior's old books. "I don't know if you two know the language very well."

"We know it well enough to teach you," Thea said, folding her arms across her chest. "Anna does, that is."

As it turned out, Anna _was_ the primary teacher while Thea hung back for emotional support and, once or twice, discouragement. At some point in the lesson, Frau Bergmann walked by them on the road. Thea got to her feet, quickly shouted something about having the opportunity to go see how Wendla was doing, and raced off after giving Anna a quick kiss on the cheek.

With the other girl out of the way, Moritz felt much more comfortable. He and Anna began to talk about more personal things. He was too afraid to ask anything about Martha, in case she hadn't told them yet, but he felt okay asking about Wendla and Thea. In return, Anna asked him about the other boys in the town. He told her than Hanschen had refused to tutor him because of his friendship with Ernst, and Anna told him that Thea wasn't as shallow as she sometimes appeared. He told her that Melchior had been showing up late every morning and she told him that Wendla was apparently anemic.

It was an accident, but the words slipped from his mouth without him thinking and filtering them: "When is Wendla having her baby?"

The shock on Anna's face revealed plenty about the girl's naivety and her ignorance in the matter.

"Baby?" Anna asked quietly.

"She's going to have a child. That's why she seems sick," Moritz said nervously, understanding that he hadn't been supposed to tell anyone about it.

"I think... I think I need to go now," Anna said. "Meet here again tomorrow after we get out of classes."

With that, the girl gathered up her own books and supplies, nodded a farewell to him, and ran off, probably to go join Thea at the Bergmann house. Moritz wondered if this would help or hurt the girls.

Whatever the ultimate result would be, there was no denying that he felt terrible at the moment.


	8. Chapter Eight

_**A/N: Thank you for the feedback! I was afraid no one would want to read this after I didn't update in forever, but you guys are wonderful. Here's the newest chapter!**_

CHAPTER EIGHT

Moritz woke up the next day to the sound of Melchior and his parents talking downstairs in raised voices. It was too faint to distinguish specific words, but the tone implied that Melchior was very upset. Eventually, Melchior's voice disappeared and was replaced by the sound of footsteps running up stairs. They stopped and Moritz heard his friend say, "I don't need your permission, father." The footsteps returned and Moritz collapsed back onto his pillow with his eyes shut just as Melchior thrust the door open.

Moritz couldn't see what was happening and the audio was just as vague. After an initial outburst of cursing and the noise of something hitting the wall, Melchior was silent for a long while. Footsteps, a whispered obscenity, and the groan of Melchior's bedsprings. In a minute or so, the bed creaked again as Melchior presumably stood up, and then a curious thing happened.

If Melchior hadn't made his presence known by placing something small on the table next to Moritz's bed, the hand that gently touched Moritz's hair would have caused the latter boy to jump in surprise and blow his cover entirely.

"Stay safe, Moritz," Melchior said quietly, and then came the sound of him gathering his books, followed by the quiet click of the door.

Moritz opened his eyes but didn't move immediately. Questions were racing through his head, mostly related to what the nature of the argument downstairs, and he didn't remember the thing Melchior had put on the table until he saw it.

It was a ring.

* * *

The girls were late that afternoon, and Moritz felt uncomfortable sitting by himself after about ten minutes had passed. It wasn't the sort of day that most people would be enjoying in solitude; the wind was stronger than usual and the sky was dark and grim in anticipation of a storm.

He became even more nervous when he saw two boys approaching. Immediately he wondered why they would be walking in this direction on a day like this. To his knowledge, none of his classmates had to pass through the vineyard to get home. That had been one of the reasons that they had decided to meet here. And the weather didn't encourage an outing either.

Standing up, Moritz squinted into the distance. He saw Martha, distinguishable by her height and dress, walking a short ways behind the two boys, the taller of whom waved his hand in the air and shouted, "Moritz!" in a voice that was too high to belong to any boy his age.

It was then that Moritz noticed the way the "boys" swung their hips when they walked, and that two neat braids were peaking out from the shorter one's cap.

"Anna?" he called back, his confusion fading and a sense of enlightenment coming over him. "Thea?"

The girls rushed over with more urgency and Moritz took in the bizarre scene. Anna was dressed in a uniform from the boys' school and it looked like Thea was wearing the uniform the boys had worn when they were younger. Both girls wore hats and Anna had tucked her hair unto hers.

"The clothes were my brother's," Anna explained with a stern determination in her eyes and the curve of her mouth. "We're disguised because we're going to Priapia."

"Priapia?" The word flew out of his mouth like he'd been scalded by it. "Why? Why are we going _there_?"

"We think Ilse might have some idea about what to do. About Wendla's child," Martha explained in her calming voice.

"She doesn't. I already talked to her about it!" Moritz said quickly, starting to stumble over his words. He wanted to see Ilse but would she want to see him? Their last conversation hadn't ended well and he was afraid of what she had decided about him during the time since then.

"Why would she have told you anything about it?" Thea asked, and Moritz felt like he'd been hit in the stomach. Anna whispered "_Thea, please,"_ under her breath, giving her friend a meaningful look, and the shorter girl exhaled uncomfortably before saying, "Sorry. I didn't… What I meant was that Ilse probably wouldn't have told you much about it because you're a boy and you're not really Wendla's friend. Besides, did you actually ask Ilse for help?"

"No," Moritz admitted, "and I suppose you're right about her being more willing to tell you three." He looked at Martha. "But what's the point of disguises if Martha isn't wearing one?"

The girls exchanged a look and in that brief moment, Moritz watched a thousand previous conversations unfold. Then, Martha looked at Moritz and softly said, "I've spent a few nights in Priapia before. They know me there."

No one spoke for a few seconds. Finally, Anna took Thea's hand and squeezed it. "Let's get going then. The sky looks like it'll break open at any moment and I don't want to get caught by the storm before we even get to talk to Ilse."

With that, the four of them started running and it almost felt like Moritz was with friends.

* * *

"I know I've always said that it would be better to be a boy, but these pants are really uncomfortable," Thea said as they crossed over the bridge to Priapia.

"I think that's more of the fact that they don't fit," Anna suggested with a smile, glancing behind them cautiously.

"We always hated those pants," Moritz remembered out loud. "Melchior once said that we should all come to school wearing skirts to protest."

Thea let out a gasp and suddenly seemed to be much more confident about the fact that she was crossdressing.

"It looks like Melchior Gabor isn't the only radical in town, Thea," Martha said with amusement. When Thea blushed dark pink at the comment, the amusement turned into a full blown laugh, a beautiful sound that Moritz realized he had never heard before, at least not since they were much younger.

"Martha," Anna said, recovering from her laughter to say something more important, "you know where Ilse lives, right?"

The tall girl looked around briefly. "I know where she _was_ living, but that doesn't necessarily tell us where she is now."

"Well, we should be able to ask someone, right?" Anna asked.

"Maybe. Let's see what happens."

The dark sky betrayed the time of day. It easily could have been night if they were just considering how many people were outside. There was a man sitting against a tree with a canvas and some dirty oil paints. Moritz glanced at the painting and saw the messy impressionistic beginnings of the stormy sky.

"We could ask him," Thea said with a look at the others that clearly indicated that she had no intentions of asking him herself. Martha squinted at him, maybe trying to see if she knew him, and then walked over to him and began to speak while the other three waited anxiously at a distance.

The _plein air_ artist gestured madly with his paintbrush to Martha, who nodded and pointed to a specific direction. The conversation ended as the man nodded finally and Martha returned to them.

"He said that Ilse has been staying with some poets in that house," she said, pointing ahead.

"Oh, Ilse!" Thea moaned. "What has she done with herself?"

Anna looked at Martha with sympathy and touched her hand lightly before nodding and starting towards the house. Martha began walking as well, leaving Thea and Moritz standing behind them. Moritz saw Thea's body surge forward and her mouth open to speak before a look of regret and defeat crossed her face, and then the girl raced to catch up with her friends. Moritz followed at the tail of the group.

Martha knocked on the door and a wave of anticipation went through the four of them as they waited for someone to answer it. At last, it opened a crack and a face appeared. "What do you want?"

"We're here to see Ilse," Anna said.

The face disappeared for a moment and Moritz heard Ilse's voice from somewhere inside the house. When the door opened fully, it wasn't the man at the door. Instead, Ilse stood there, wearing a bedsheet as a makeshift stola. Thea let out a little gasp but Moritz didn't bother to look at her. He couldn't tear his eyes away from Ilse, who was looking at him with an emotion he couldn't figure out. At last, she spoke.

"Well, are you going to come in or not?"

_**A/N: Yay, crossdressing! Also, I hope Thea's hypocrisy is more endearing than annoying, but I promise she will get better as the story progresses. She's just a bit off without Wendla. I always think that Martha and Anna are closer to each other and Thea and Wendla are likewise with each other. Not that they aren't all friends, but you get my point. Thanks for reading!**_


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